


The Unreliability of Chronology

by Felilla



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Feels, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felilla/pseuds/Felilla
Summary: No. His Padawan died on Mortis six months ago and he was left without even a body to mourn. This was a trick. She hadn’t returned to him and she most definitely was not a decade older.





	1. Familiar Faces

Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker had long since gotten used to sleeping through the sounds of war. Shouts, machinery, and blaster fire all faded into the background when he laid down on his cot to catch a few, brief hours of rest, which would often be followed by another round of stims to keep him awake for the next eighteen hours. Still, he would get some sleep, more as a promise to Rex than out any actual need. Or so he told himself.

His limbs thanked him when he settled and he just now realized that a blaster had caught him in the arm. He prodded at the graze wound through his tunic, his mouth set into a firm frown. Why had no one mentioned it to him? Did anyone even notice?

Probably not. The only two people that would’ve spotted such a small detail on his quick-moving form were either off-planet or dead. His stomach churned and he forcefully shoved the thought away before laying down. He adjusted his pillow underneath him, staring at the wall of the canvas tent.

Outside, the war waged on. A war that took so many people’s lives. A war that never should’ve happened. A vile, vicious beast, dark and evil that rose up from shadows of doubt. He groaned, burying his face into the coarse fabric of his pillow. He should be out there with the Clones right now. The more he fought, the closer they were to ending this kriffing thing.

The closer they were to peace.

A sudden shout caught his attention and he propped himself up on his elbow. Not that shouts were uncommon on the battlefield, what with commanders barkings orders and people crying out in pain. But this was different. This was a shout of terror, a sound more or less unknown to the Clones of the Republic.

He jumped out of his bed as the hair on his neck prickled, a shudder shooting down his spine. Anakin reached out with the Force and a sudden sense of foreboding overcame him. The energy around him shifted and shuddered and rocked like a ship coming out of hyperspace. His skin crawled, his fingers curled into tight fists. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. His knees buckled underneath him, tears streaming down his face. He was drowning in the Force.

A blinding white light sparked in his vision and when it faded, Anakin found himself lying on the ground, staring up at the steepled ceiling of his tent.

What just happened?

He shoved himself to his feet and hobbled over to the entrance. The entire battalion had erupted into chaos as several of them attempted to douse a tent that caught on fire. Others went about their normal routines. The war still flared up in front of them.

But there was a very distinct pocket of Clones surrounding something at the edge of the encampment. A spy perhaps? But while they all had their blasters raised, none of them seemed to keen on firing. A Clone spy, maybe?

Anakin inhaled shakily before he made his way over to one of the Clones on the outside of the circle. “What’s going on?” he questioned, wincing when a sharp pain raced through his head, the white light still filling the edges of his vision.

Something didn’t feel right. Now that he was closer, he could tell that the presence in the center of the circle didn’t feel right either. Something was off about their signature, but at the same time, excruciatingly familiar.

Why couldn’t he put his finger on it?

“I don’t know, sir,” the Clone answered honestly. “She just appeared in the middle of camp.”

“Appeared?” he repeated. “People don’t just appear.”

“General Skywalker!”

Rex’s shout caught Anakin’s attention and he turned to find him emerging from the middle of the circle. The Captain had removed his helmet for whatever reason and a distraught look clouded his expression. In fact, Anakin could only recall one other time Rex had look this upset.

“Yes?” Anakin raised an eyebrow at him, glancing at the circle out of the corner of his eye. “What is it?”

“I think you should see this, sir.”

The circle parted for him, no one lowering their weapons. The first thing that caught Anakin’s attention was the white glow, like the glow of a lightsaber. But lightsabers weren’t white and only Jedi carried them anyways. They didn’t appear to be Sith then, at least. He raised his gaze to the perpetrator’s face.

His heart stopped.

No. This was a trick.

Ahsoka Tano stood in front of him in a familiar defensive position, white lightsabers gripped tightly in her hands, her face contorted into an expression of determination and anger. Her eyes, still a vibrant, clear blue, snapped up to his face. Her look faltered before resurging with a vengeance. “What is this?” she spat with a vehemence he’d never heard from his Padawan before.

Anakin stared at her and her eyes flickered back to his face. This was a trick. It had to be.

But this presence, this signature. He understood now why it had felt so familiar and it sent tears bursting into his eyes. If this was trick, why did she feel so real? He stepped forward without really meaning to and she jerked back, her grasp on her unusual weapons tightening. “Stay back,” she growled, baring her teeth at him. “I don’t know who or _what_ you are, but stay away from me.”

This was a trick, Anakin reminded himself. No matter how much she felt or looked or sounded like Ahsoka Tano, it could not be. His Padawan died on Mortis, her body left on the dying planet. She was not standing in front of him, healthy, breathing, and noticeably older.

She wasn’t. He swallowed.

“Who are you?” he asked, surprised he managed to find his voice.

Her eyes darted to the side in an all too familiar way. She was calculating. Whoever this impostor was, they certainly had Ahsoka’s mannerisms down. “Fulcrum,” she replied after a moment, her gaze once again settling on Anakin’s face. “Who are you?”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin ran over the name she gave him in his head, but his memory produced no results aside from the straightforward definition of the word.

“Liar.”

He blinked at the impostor, startled by the sheer amount of intensity in that one word. She swallowed, “Who are you really?”

Anakin glanced at Rex who stared back at him with a mixture of confusion and anger. He turned back to the woman {if this sentient even _was_ a woman}, “My name is Jedi General Anakin Skywalker,” he asserted, his hand drifting to his own weapon.

“Don’t move,” she barked at him, more authority in those two words than most soldiers mustered in the lifetime.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, “I should remind you that you’re woefully outnumbered here.”

She scanned the circle of men in front of and behind her before raising an eye-marking at him. A smirk curled at her lips, more subdued than the last time he saw it, but Ahsoka’s smirk nonetheless. It’s not her, he firmly reminded himself. “Am I?”

“Tell me what you’re doing here.”

Her confident look gave way to one of confusion and she looked around. “I don’t know actually,” she looked worried now, a suspicious frown forming on her face. He felt the familiar pang of concern that didn’t belong to him and his chest tightened. Why did she feel so real? It wasn’t Ahsoka. It wasn’t Ahsoka. Her eyes widened, “Where is here exactly?”

Anakin shared another look with Rex. “We’re on the planet Felucia.”

She glanced around, this time her eyes wide with panic. He felt a bit of it bump up against his shields and raised them higher. Whoever this impostor was, they were a Force-wielder and he couldn’t afford to let down his guard. “Felucia,” she whispered. “I haven’t- It doesn’t- I’m not... You,” she pointed to a random clone with her lightsaber, shooting Anakin a suspicious glance.

“Me?” the clone pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. What year is it?”

He sputtered and glanced at Anakin, who didn’t understand, but nodded anyways. The clone responded with the standard galactic calendar year.

The impostor took a step back and the clones snapped back up to attention. “No,” she muttered and he could barely hear her over the sounds of the battle. “A force vision maybe? But why this? Why here? Why now?”

Her eyes met his again and he stared into the blue eyes that looked so distinctly like Ahsoka’s. It’s not her. It’s not her. She’s dead. It’s not her.

But the impostor's signature moved forward, brushing against his ever so gently and his head spun. It took sheer willpower to stay upright. Because Ahsoka’s signature brushed against his, brighter and more effervescent than the last time he saw it, but it was wholly and completely hers. Tears once again filled his eyes. She gasped, the strange lightsabers sliding out of her hands and onto the ground.

It’s not her. It’s not her. But each time he thought it, it seemed to become less and less true. “Anakin?” she whispered, her own voice laced with complete and utter disbelief. Her gaze darted to Rex and then Tup and then Fives, her disbelief growing with each clone she looked at. “How- You’re... All...”

Anakin took another step forward as if the Force shoved him towards her. She didn’t move. He closed the distance between them, his hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber. He expected her to do many things. Maybe bow to him. Or smile at him. She was much taller, he realized, and she didn’t look like the seventeen years she was supposed to emulate. He might even go so far as to say that she looked older than him.

Her fingers reached towards him, hand shaking. He found himself drawn into the familiar comfort of her signature. For a second, her hand hovered above his cheek before her calloused skin settled against his, running over his scar. “It’s really you,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “But how? You’re dead.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Snips,” he said, unable to stop the shaky grin that stretched across his features.

“What are you talking about?” she said, eye-markings furrowing.

He threw all decorum out the window and yanked her into a tight hug. She returned it with just as much enthusiasm and heartbreak and Anakin knew that it was her. He didn’t understand it, not yet, but his Padawan was alive and well.

And she was home.


	2. The Essence of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously On The Unreliability of Chronology...
> 
> Anakin Skywalker was reunited with his deceased Padawan, who looks a little older than she should.

Everything looked the same as she remembered it, even with the small patches in her memories, aside from the fact that the Jedi tent only contained one cot to the previous three, which meant Obi-Wan Kenobi was absent. They would put them in a circle and take turns sleeping closest to the door because that was the unlucky soul that got woken up first. It had become habit when the three of them were together.

She inhaled sharply, the distinct aroma of Anakin filling her nose and clouding her other senses momentarily. If this was a Force Vision, it was an accurate one.

An accurate one with poor timing.

She really needed to get back to the firefight she'd managed to find herself locked in along with a small crew of rebels. She wrung her hands together and turned back to Anakin, who was still watching her with a mix of trepidation and awe. "Um, hi," she waved to him. He looked the same as he always had. The same smug smile and warm blue eyes. Some would say that his eyes were icy and cold, something she'd never seen. She'd only ever seen kindness in him, but there was a hard edge there that she'd never noticed.

Perhaps she immortalized him too much as a Padawan.

"You're actually here," he breathed out and tentatively dropped a hand onto her shoulder, like he was afraid she was going to crumble to dust beneath his touch.

"I guess so," she smiled at him, the motion a little stiff, a little awkward. She didn't smile much these days. No one did.

The awkwardness of her smile didn't go unnoticed by her Master and he peered at her, concern in his eyes, brushing up against her shields. She resisted the urge to shove his signature away. The Force was trying to tell her something. What exactly that was, she didn't know. All she knew was that they were at the Battle of Felucia and for whatever reason, Obi-Wan Kenobi was absent and she was- "You mentioned something about me being dead," she said in a soft, careful voice. She had long since learned how to be tactile in her conversation. It was an important aspect of being in charge of the Alliance's Communications. Of being Fulcrum.

Anakin's gentle smile fell, his eyes hardening as he pulled back. He looked suspicious now, which startled her. Why would this Force-Anakin be suspicious of her? "You are dead," he said and shook his head. "But you're here and you're... So tall..."

She chuckled, the sound a little hollow, a little humorless. "That's what happens when you get older, Anakin."

"Older?" he pursed his lips into his all too familiar thinking face.

Her chest clenched as she watched him. If this was a Force Vision, maybe she didn't want to leave. She shook her head, disgusted with herself. Maybe that was the purpose of this. Maybe the Force was finally trying to help her let go. Let go of Anakin and the Jedi and the Clone Wars. Let go of everything holding her back from reaching her true potential. "How old are you?" Anakin asked.

"How old do you think I am?" she shot back with a raised eye-marking.

"Last time," he swallowed and looked away. "Last time I saw you, you were sixteen."

She let that sink in for a moment. She was a far cry from her sixteen year old self, a girl too eager to please her Master and prove her worth. She had been a child then, a talented child thrust headfirst into a very real war, but a child nonetheless. "I'm twenty-five," she informed him. "I think I turn twenty-six in a few weeks."

"You think?" he echoed and stared at her.

She was still a little bit shorter than him, not including her montrals, but Anakin had always been a tall man. "I'm never one hundred percent sure of the date," she responded. "It's not of much importance."

They were still standing in the tent and with slow, obvious movements, Ahsoka sat down on the edge of Anakin's cot. Force, even the material of the blankets felt so, so real. But it wasn't real, she had to remind herself of that. Even so, she played with the edge of the thick fabric. "So, I'm dead?" she repeated the question from earlier. Why had the Force Vision killed her off? Where was the message in this?

"You died on Mortis," he said. "Or, we thought you did. But apparently, you didn't and you even accelerated your aging, somehow."

 _Mortis_. That was a name she hadn't heard in a very, very long time. She squinted up at him, "I didn't die. You resurrected me using the Daughter's remaining life Force."

He gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing before he snapped it shut. "We tried that. It didn't work. You... You were dead. Why- How are you here, Ahsoka?"

"That's a good question," she placed her hands in her lap, tears refilling her eyes as she stared at Anakin. Her Anakin. Her Master. Her brother. Her best friend. "What are you trying to tell me? Why are you tormenting me?"

"What?" Anakin looked panicked by her sudden onslaught of emotions. He stepped forward, hand outstretched, but stopped. "What are you talking about?"

"You're  _dead_ ," she hissed, feeling her defensive nature pick back up. It was a hard habit to shake, even when reliving good memories. It was laughable to think that he good memories came from a time when war had been paramount, when her life had been in danger almost every day. "I don't want to do this right now. I know I need to let you go, but I _can't_ , Anakin. Not yet."

"What are you on about, Snips?"

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she struggled to breathe. Why? Why did he have to call her that? She scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. This was too much. She just wanted to wake up. Anakin sat down next to her, startling her when he took one of her hands into his. She hadn't been touched by anybody in such a gentle, familial way since... Force, who knows how long. She looked over at him, gnawing on her bottom lip. "I missed you," he said after a moment, staring down at her hands. They were more calloused and scarred than they used to be. She got into an accident a few years ago involving a bomb and ended up with pieces of shrapnel embedded in her skin. And without much bacta on hand, scars became much more evident. His fingers grazed one of the larger scars. He sighed and dropped her hand. She resisted the urge to reach out to him again when he met her gaze with a quivering smile and shiny eyes. "I've decided this is just a dream, but it's really, _really_ good to see you, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka's somewhat neutral expression crumpled as she flung herself at him again. He held her tight. "I missed you too," she said with soft gasps of air in between her words as she struggled to hold in her sobs. "It's been so hard, Anakin. So, so hard. I've been so lost without you, without all of you."

She dissolved into a wailing mess and Anakin's metal hand smoothed circles into her back. Gentle, but firm. "Shh," he said even though his own chest was heaving with quieter sobs. "I'm here right now. You're here right now. Let's just enjoy this for now."

So they did. With her face buried into his tunic and his chin tucked between her montrals, they enjoyed each other's silent company. Ahsoka wasn't sure when she drifted off, but she knew that when she woke up, she would be back with the Alliance and maybe, just maybe she'd finally be able to let her Master go.


	3. Not a Dream

Anakin eased his eyes open, only to immediately shut them again. His head spun and his muscles screamed with a horrible, aching pain. He groaned, shielding his eyes. Why did he have a hangover? He couldn’t remember drinking anything in recent memory and even if he did, he was usually smart enough to take precautions of stave it off. Or Padme or Obi-Wan would leave him some pain medicine.

He shoved himself off of the ground and looked around. Oh. Oh yeah. He was still on Felucia. He frowned. Then he _definitely_ shouldn’t have been hungover. He never drank alcohol during a battle. And why was he on the ground?

He reached for the cot to haul himself up when his hand grazed a patch of skin, bringing his motions to a sudden stop. What in the Force? He stood, his heart lurching into his throat as he stumbled back a step.

But it had just been a dream.

But he had no doubt that he was staring down at Ahsoka’s sleeping body. Her lekku twitched in her sleep and her nose also twitched, he noticed, which meant that she was having a nightmare. Wait, that wasn’t the point. Ahsoka was in front of him, alive and... How old did she say she was? Twenty-five? But how? How was she here? He’d dismissed the night before as a good dream or a Force Vision to help him move on, but if that was the case, she would be gone right now. He’d be alone in his tent right now.

Ahsoka moaned, a low painful sound that startled him, and rolled over to face the wall. He stared at her, at the multitude of scars covering her shoulders, scars that would’ve easily been healed with bacta or even just proper medical care. And she was wearing armor? It looked beat-up and more akin to bounty hunter armor than anything standarad military issue... Or Jedi issue for that matter. If she really was here, then why did she look like the war never ended and only got worse?

“No,” she whispered, the single word breaking his heart in a way he couldn’t understand.

He reached out, hand hovering over her arm before he brought it down, “Hey, Snips?”

Her eyes flew open as she jolted up and the familiar heat of a lightsaber hovered near his throat. He hadn’t even seen her draw her weapon. “Whoa,” he held up his hands in surrender. “Calm down.”

She peered up at him, blue eyes widening. “Anakin?” she lowered her weapon and glanced around at her surroundings. “But it was just a dream. I don’t... I don’t understand.”

He laughed, the attempt to lighten the mood coming off as hysterical. “Neither do I, Snips.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before they flew open again. “I’m not supposed to be here,” she said as she jumped out of the cot. Anakin was once struck by how _tall_ she was. “This isn’t right.”

“Hey, breathe,” he reached out towards her, but she jerked away, panic settling into her features.

“It’s great to see you again, Anakin, it really is, but I need to get back,” she said and her words flowed into a rapid, almost incomprensible succession.

He blinked at her. “Get back to where?”

She stared at him and tossed a gaze towards the entrance of the tent, her eyes sad and a little wistful. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head with a sigh. “The Alliance needs me. You need to let me go.”

“The... Alliance?”

Force, she lost her mind. Did leaving her body on Mortis cause this? Was she not really dead and they just left her there to... To what? Age rapidly and lose all sanity? “Anakin,” she turned to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. He was struck with the sudden realization that she was actually _older_ than him, closer to Padme in age than him. “I know this is going to sound crazy-”

“Any explanation would be nice right about now, honestly,” he said.

A small, half-smile appeared on her face before dropping again. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such a serious expression on her face. He thought back to the aggressive, almost feral look in her eyes from the night before. The look of a hunted predator. “I think I got sent back in time.”

He chuckled, “That’s impossib-”

“ _And_ ,” her grip tightened on his shoulders. “I think that this is an alternate version of the past. One where I died on Mortis.”

He tried to laugh again, but the look on her face stopped him. “That’s impossible,” he tried again.

“The Force works in mysterious ways,” she said, a ghost of a smile rising to her lips. She pulled away. “But I really need to get back and I think you’re the one holding me here.”

“M-me?” he pointed to himself. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the Chosen One?” she scoffed in an almost mocking fashion. “You can’t honestly think the Force would just send me back here like this? I have important work to do in my time.”

He nodded in false understanding, “If I somehow called you here, Snips, it was an accident. I wouldn’t know how to send you back even if I wanted to.”

She squinted at him, “And you don’t want to?”

Did he? It sounded like something important was happening in... Wherever or whenever she was from, but she was here, with him. “Wait,” their interactions from the night before rose to the surface. “You said I’m supposed to be dead.”

Ahsoka stepped back, all of her confidence gone in a single breath. She closed her eyes with a long sigh. “You are.”

He gawked at her. As naive and self-concieted as it sounded, it had never really occured to him that he could die. “How did I die?” he almost didn’t want her to answer that.

She looked reluctant to answer, her lips pursed into a thin line. There were bags under her eyes, he noticed. And she stood sloppily, not at all how Jedi should stand. And when he reached out to her signature, there was something distinctly _wrong_ with it. It was Ahsoka, but it was all at once too bright and too dark, like a solar eclipse encasing her body. “I don’t know exactly,” she said after a moment or two. Or maybe it was a couple of minutes, he couldn’t be sure. “I think I was still on Mandalore when it happened.”

Mandalore? What in the Force was she doing on Mandalore? He glanced down at her lightsabers, the ones that gave off a strange white glow. “Did the Mandalore thing elevate you to Knight?”

A choked squawk escaped her and he jumped back in surprise. She glanced over at him, a somewhat pained, but also somewhat amused expression on her face. She shook her head, “I’m not a Jedi, Anakin.”

“What?” the questioned escaped him before he could stop it. “What do you mean you’re not a Jedi? You’re not a-”

“No,” she glared at him and he was reminded of Snips, _his_ Snips again. “I’m not a Sith.”

“Then what are you?”

She shrugged and gestured to herself. “I’m me.”

“Why aren’t you a Jedi?”

“I-” she gnawed on her bottom lip, her eye-markings furrowing. “I don’t know if I should tell you, honestly. I’m dead in this world. Nothing is going to happen the same way.”

“Then what’s the harm in telling me?”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I left the Order when I was seventeen. I gave them my whole life and they betrayed my trust. They were too involved with political gain to see what was right in front of them.”

That wasn’t surprising. The Council had their heads stuck up their own asses here too. He stopped, going over her words in his head. “They _were_?”

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath and looked over at him. “Look, I don’t know how I got here, but I think we should figure out how to get me back.”

He stepped closer, voice low, “What happened to the Council, Ahsoka?”

Her eyes hardened then and she stared at him with unhinged fury and sorrow. She brought her arms close to her body to hug herself as if whatever she was thinking physically pained her. She simultaneously looked both so much older and so much younger than the twenty-five years she claimed to be. She exhaled shakily. “It’s not some much what happened to the Council as what happened to the Order.”

“Well?” he asked, more than a little afraid of her what her answer would be. “What happened to the Order?”

“They died, Anakin,” she said, a thin sheen of tears reflected in her eyes. “They all died.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, go follow me on Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates about all of my fics and my original works too!


	4. All These Years Have Left Us Blind

The blood drained from his face as a borderline hysterical chuckle bubbled on his lips. Anakin clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the sound from escaping. Ahsoka inhaled. Exhaled. This was insane. All of this was so _fucking_ insane. She didn't want to even think about what was going on. She didn't want to linger on any thoughts that had the capacity to make her panic.

She needed to focus.

That's what she did best now. Focusing on the moment at hand.

Later, she would panic or worry, but right now, in this moment, she needed to focus.

He blinked at her, hard enough that it looked painful. She didn't move. Didn't emote. Being a rebel crafted her into the perfect example of emotionless. He blinked again. "Oh, I see," he laughed this time, the sound harsh and forced. "You're joking."

She pulled her arms closer to her body and stared at the fabric of the tent behind him. If she really was in the past, in a different universe for that matter, then that meant that the clones she saw last night were actually alive. Did any of them contact the Order overnight? "I wish I was, Anakin. They're dead. As far as I'm aware, I'm the last Jedi trained individual alive."

"But..." he searched her eyes. "But how?"

Ahsoka looked away from the desperation in his eyes. She couldn't let his panic overtake her. If she needed to be the calm one in this situation, then so be it. Even so, her sorrow clung to her and her eyes burned. She wanted to rush out of the tent and hug Rex. She wanted to hug Anakin. She wanted to find Obi-Wan and hug him. And Plo Koon. Maybe even Master Windu. She wanted to see every face she'd lost.

And then she wanted to let them go and return to her own timeline. She'd already lived this part of her life. She had no place here, but she was needed back there. The Alliance needed her. All of the oppressed and battered and bruised needed her.

She wasn't just Ahsoka Tano anymore. She was Fulcrum.

This wasn't even her past. In this world, she was dead, gone, erased from history. She didn't even know if things were going to happen the same way here. If the Clones had their mind control chips. If Chancellor Palpatine was a Sith Lord. If the Jedi Purge would even happen.

Maybe in a world where she died on Mortis, peace was achievable and not just some far off dream.

But what if it wasn't?

The voice of doubt whispered in her ear, coaxing and anxious. "Ahsoka?" Anakin prompted.

She looked up at him, startled out of her thoughts. "How?"

"They were murdered," she said softly and watched terror fill his eyes. "By the Clones and by Chancellor Palpatine."

His eyes hardened. "Chance-"

"Chancellor Palpatine declared himself Emperor," she cut off his inevitable defense of his friend. "And said that the Jedi committed treason. He had them eradicated and purged and to this day, in my world, they are hunted down and murdered."

"Palpatine is a good man."

"Palpatine killed our friends! He killed Obi-Wan. He killed  _you_. He tried to kill me. Rex is the only reason I didn't die in the first wave. They killed younglings. Children, infants.  This is my reality, Anakin. It's been my reality for the past nine years. It might be different in your world, but in my world, in my life, Sheev Palpatine is not a good man."

His subtle anger disintegrated, replaced with pure, unadulterated horror. He placed a hand over his mouth and she stepped aside as he raced out of the tent, heaving onto the ground. She followed, sticking to the inside of the tent. The less prying eyes, the better. "The younglings?" he said, eyes wide with something she couldn't identify.

She nodded, "Yes."

"They can't- I can't-" he looked up at her and she watched through the small entrance as a few clones stared at Anakin. "Everyone?"

"Yes," she said, her voice catching on the words like fingers grasping for a single thread in a tapestry. "Everyone. He turned their graves into a palace."

"No..."

"Yes," she closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down. No time for emotions. The emotions were for later when she was alone.

He met her gaze, "Ah-"

"Sir."

They both glanced over at Rex as he approached and Ahsoka's heart swelled. Tears once again pricked at her eyes, but she forced herself to pull back into the shadows. She couldn't talk to him. Not yet. Anakin glanced back at her before looking up at the clone captain. "Yes?"

"General Kenobi has returned."

Ahsoka dug her fingernails into her arms to keep from racing out to find him herself. Instead, she watched Anakin push himself off of the ground and for the first time since he left her on Mandalore, she watched him walk away from her. "Please come back this time," she whispered under her breath.


	5. Glimmers of Hope

Anakin didn't really know how to broach this topic. What was he supposed to tell Obi-Wan "oh, my Padawan is back from the dead and not only that, she's from another dimension"? Yeah, that would go over well. He walked mechanically towards the makeshift shipyard and even from here, he could sense Obi-Wan's presence. They broke off the bond between them years ago, but they were still closer than most former Padawans and Master and right now, the only emotion Obi-Wan gave off was confusion.

When he approached them, he noticed that a few clones were talking to him and then he noticed that Obi-Wan Kenobi was visibly shaken. Obi-Wan Kenobi  _never_ looked shaken. He glanced up at Anakin approached, eyes wide with shock. " _Ahsoka_?" he breathed out once his former Padawan was within hearing range.

The clones scattered then, likely sensing that this was some Jedi business. "Anakin," Obi-Wan placed a hand on his shoulder. Perhaps to comfort Anakin or maybe to steady himself. There was no way of knowing for sure. "It's some kind of Sith trick, it  _has_ to be."

Anakin looked into Obi-Wan's eyes, which radiated concern, confusion, and a hint of something else. Hope. He was hopeful that it wasn't a Sith trick. Anakin blinked at him.

Obi-Wan had mourned Ahsoka, yes, but he'd let her go relatively quickly. After a deep meditation session with Yoda, he bounced back with the same flexibility he always showed. It wasn't the same as when Qui-Gon died and for a period of time, Anakin actually resented him for it. They were... Well, not exactly fine, but they were better now, less like a shattered window and more like a crudely fixed mirror.

But that was hope in his Master's eyes. Trepidation. Fear. Confusion. And hope.

Anakin was wrong to think that Obi-Wan let go of his Grandpadawan so easily. Wrong and ignorant. He took a step back. "It's her," he paused and ran his mechanical hand through his hair. "Well, kind of..."

Obi-Wan's expression fell, "What do you-"

"You'll see."

The walk back to the tents was silent. No casual banter. No mundane small talk. Anakin didn't even ask why the Temple called Obi-Wan back so suddenly. None of that mattered when Ahsoka was alive and waiting for them. He pushed aside the tent flap and let Obi-Wan enter first, skirting around him when he stopped in his movements.

She meditated. Instead of the serene expression of most meditating Jedi though, her lips quirked into a sorta half-smile. Her presence filled the tent, warm, bright, and effervescent, but also broken, cracked, and dull. A juxtaposition that made Anakin want to laugh and cry, scream and smile, breathe it in and choke it out, all at once. Obi-Wan staggered under the sudden weight of it.

And then she pulled back with a sudden, sharp intake of breath and she opened her eyes and smiled at Anakin, that same odd false smile. He smiled back, but her gaze was already sliding away from him.

Neither of the male Jedi had time to brace when she suddenly flung herself at Obi-Wan. The Jedi Master stiffened as she hugged him before tentatively patting her back. "I'm sorry," she said as she pulled back. She scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I just-"

Anakin started when she buried her face into her hands, sobs shaking her body. He reached out towards her, pausing when her sobs shifted into laughs. She shook her head and laughed harder and harder. Before he could stop her, she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug and he was thrown off by how strong she was. Her laughter continued and his joined hers before he realized what was happening.

Obi-Wan watched the whole exchange with a completely befuddled expression. When Ahsoka finally pulled away, she stifled the last of her giggles. "Why..." Obi-Wan looked between the two of them before he gaze settled on Ahsoka. "Why are you so tall?"

Ahsoka's gleeful expression shifted back to a serious one and it was almost like the temperature in the tent dropped a couple of degrees. A violent shudder racked Anakin's frame and he saw Obi-Wan barely stop one from overtaking him as well. Pain and sorrow were all he felt, an onslaught of it, years of it built up and released into the Force. Her presence pulled back from them and it was like she didn't exist at all in the Force, like she was just another Togruta woman.

The two men stared at her and she exhaled, hugging herself. Anakin understood her pain because of what she'd told him, but he didn't believe her, not completely, until now. No one can fake something so horrible and traumatic. She turned away and for the first time, Anakin could see it. She didn't stand like a Jedi, she didn't feel like a Jedi, she didn't even look like a Jedi, because she wasn't supposed to  _be_ a Jedi. In her world, she was a fugitive.

In her world, she was a rebel.


	6. A Plan is a Plan is a Plan

"I still don't understand why you're so tall," Obi-Wan said and Ahsoka realized he was staring  _up_ at her. Was he really that short?

"It's..." she glanced over at Anakin. "It's a long story."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms, "Well, I have time it seems."

She laughed nervously, rubbing her arm as she stared at the entrance of the tent. Outside, the planet was still bustling and the sound of blaster fire filled the air. It was strange to think that the blaster fire was directed at _her._  "Isn't there still a battle going on?" she questioned.

"That can wait."

She raised an eye-marking at him, but didn't press the issue. For a second, she pursed her lips and glanced over at Anakin again. He was staring at her with an unusual expression, like she just told him something eye-opening. Which, in a way, she did. She looked back at Obi-Wan and took a deep breath. "IamfromthefutureofanalternatedimensionandtheForcesentmebackforsomereason," she spewed out and both men blinked at her.

"What?" Anakin mumbled, more to himself than to her.

"You're from alternate dimension?" Obi-Wan questioned.

"You understood that?!"

The Master waved him off, "I grew up with Quinlan Vos. He never shuts up."

Ahsoka giggled, the sound foreign to her. She stopped and stared down at her hands. "Yes," she said in a soft voice. Oh, how she missed this. She wished she could say she didn't but... "I am."

"Well, the Force does work in mysterious ways," he said after a second. "We should get to the Council and let them in on this."

Ahsoka's heart seized in her chest as she stumbled a step back. "No."

The word fell from her lips, low and flat and commanding. The Jedi stared at her as she shook her head. "No, we can't," she closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn't let her emotions get the better of her right now. "You remember what I told you, Anakin?"

Realization dawned in his eyes as he nodded slowly. "She's right," he said. "We can't let anyone else know about this."

"You really expect me to keep this a secret?" Obi-Wan glanced between them and stroked his beard in a familiar fashion that made Ahsoka both happy and melancholy. Even if she somehow managed to keep their future from coming to fruition, her Obi-Wan was still dead. Her Anakin was still dead. And... She shook her head. She was here now. With them. Focus on the moment, Ful- Ahsoka.

"Just until I can figure everything out," the Togruta assured him.

He stared at her for several long seconds before sighing and shaking his head. "How do we explain your presence here then?" Anakin asked.

She stared at the ground, delving into her thoughts. "You..." she started slowly. "Did you leave this Ahsoka's body on Mortis?"

Both of them stiffened and Obi-Wan released a heavy sigh. "Yes."

"Then we'll say I didn't actually die, but that I've been living there and because of how the planet is, I aged faster?"

"I don't know..." Anakin muttered.

"It sounds about as believable as coming from another dimension," Obi-Wan said. "But how did you get back?"

She shrugged, "The Force works in mysterious ways?"

"Better than nothing," her Master agreed with a nod. "But Ahsoka-"

She stared at him and shook her head minutely. No need to let Obi-Wan in on more than necessary. When they had another moment alone, she would talk to Anakin. She would make a plan. If it killed her, she would save this Galaxy because she was unable to save her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers...
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> AHSOKA LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm crying. I'm so, so, so happy.
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> Anyways, sorry for the short chapter. I'm kinda exhausted from working three jobs. -.-'
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> Hey, check out my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and cool stuffs. Plus, I answer any and all asks on Sundays!


	7. Pride

"Okay," Obi-Wan glanced back at the tent's entrance and a second later, Rex burst into the tent.

"They've broken through our barricade, sir," he announced with a hasty salute. He glanced briefly at Ahsoka and her fingers twitched.

Anakin sighed, "Okay, just give us a sec-"

"I can help," Ahsoka said, interrupting him.

This time, the clone captain blatantly stared at her. Later, Anakin knew he would be bombarded with questions, but everyone knew to focus on the situation on hand right now. Obi-Wan shook his head, "I don't think that's the best idea. Several clones already saw you and I don't know if we can risk any Separatists spotting you before we inform the Council."

A loud shout rang through the camp, followed by the sound of blaster fire. "I'll wear my cloak," Ahsoka crossed her arms over her chest. "Are we really wasting time discussing this. I can help."

Another shout. More blast fire. Obi-Wan glanced between Ahsoka, Anakin, and Rex. Anakin nodded, his gaze was focused on his Padawan. Her ferocity flashed through his mind again. If she was a rebel, then what skill did she possess? How much had she grown as a fighter? As a person? It was his Snips, he had no doubt about that, but she wasn't at the same time. He would have to get to know this older Ahsoka, this Ahsoka with white lightsabers and a Force signature that thrummed with the light side. He turned back to his former Master, "She's right. We don't have time for this."

Before Obi-Wan could protest, he walked out, lightsaber in hand. Ahsoka appeared next to him, the hood of her cloak drawn over her head, and he blinked at how silent her footsteps were. Obi-Wan and Rex appeared on the other side. In the distance, Anakin could make out a tank and a battalion of droids meshed with a battalion of clones. "Well," the oldest of them said as he ignited his lightsaber. "Let's go then."

* * *

Anakin didn't know how to describe Ahsoka now. She dodged and cut and sliced and deflected, a whirlwind of light and white. Her energy thrummed with exhilaration and joy as she tore through the droids like training dummies. She landed next to him in a crouch with a laugh on her lips. "This is much easier than fighting stormtroopers," she said and he made a mental note to ask her what the hell stormtroopers were later.

She took off again, looking like a ghost. Most of the droids she attacked didn't even have time to make a sound before she cut them down. This, this is what it looked like to be in your prime, Anakin thought as he Force-pushed several droids. If this is what she accomplished outside of the Order, what would she have accomplished in it? Or did she only accomplish this because she left? She jumped up on the tank, moving freely, easily. She used the Force more than necessary, but he remembered how she pulled back. How she made herself invisible.

How much did she use the Force back in her own universe? Did she use it at all? Could she even use it?

She dropped a few bombs into the tank and rolled away from it, landing next to Anakin. "Well, that was fun," she dusted her hands off as she clipped her lightsabers back to her belt. "I got 64. You?"

He cut down another droid, one of the last ones standing. If they were people, this would've been a massacre. "67," he said with a haughty smile. She might be in her prime, but Anakin was also in his and he was always stronger than her.

She shoved him playfully before her smile faltered. Obi-Wan walked over to them, a passive expression of his face. "Impressive," he said, his eyes on Ahsoka. Anakin saw the pride reflected in them. His gaze flitted over to Anakin and the younger man was surprised to see the same pride there. His Master didn't often look at him like that, like a father proud of his son or a brother, proud of his younger brother.

For the first time in a long time, Anakin genuinely smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, check out my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and cool stuffs. Plus, I answer any and all asks on Sundays! Also, consider supporting me on Kofi if you enjoy my work {link on my Tumblr}! I'd really appreciate it.


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